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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23018848">braids</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandobls/pseuds/mandobls'>mandobls</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:28:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>474</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23018848</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandobls/pseuds/mandobls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>of hair and happiness</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>braids</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>the braids are… almost metaphorical now. </p><p>when she was a child, her mother used to pull at her hair until she teared up. her mother, a gentle-turned-stiff woman at the hand of her father, had no patience for her tears, and her father definitely would not either.</p><p>she still cringes when she thinks of that time.</p><p>where she trained, it was required to tie away any strands of hair. dutch braids were all she could do. they were messy, and she was reprimanded countless times for them. </p><p>so she got better at it.</p><p>while she fights, on her own, alongside the mandalorian, she pulls her hair back. it’s more practical, anyway. she’d rather keep her hair back and risk looking disheveled than miss her target because it’s in her face.</p><p>yes, they’re a metaphor. an interesting kind of physical metaphor. for battle. for wariness. </p><p>she keeps them on in the ship, too. there is no room of the razor crest that has seen her hair loose except her own. the mandalorian, her companion for so many cycles now, has not seen either.</p><p>it’s probably why it’s such a shock to him when she shakes them out as soon as they step into the ship. blue and red blood alike stains her body and face. they’d been attacked while buying parts. she’s weary, not wary. </p><p>she doesn’t really notice that he’s rooted in place until a breeze brushes through her hair and she realizes that the mandalorian hasn’t closed the door yet.</p><p>“what’s wrong?” she asks, stepping closer to her partner. it catches him off-guard, and he answers truthfully.</p><p>“your hair…” it embarrasses her, and she runs a hand through it with a sheepish smile.</p><p>“yeah, i’ve had them in for a while now and it was starting to hurt.” the mandolorian still hasn’t moved.</p><p>“you’ve never-”</p><p>“my hair is not your helmet, mando,” she teases with a grin, “i have no creed. now, are we going or not?” that seems to snap him out of it, and he closes the door with a press of a button as she waltzes to the cockpit. he trails after her, still dazed.</p><p>she slides into the pilot’s seat, flicking switches and humming a tune she doesn’t know the name of. he leans against the doorway, studying what’s visible of her from behind the chair’s back. her hair looks different than it would had she not braided it, but beautiful nonetheless. the mandalorian doesn’t know why he suddenly has an urge to voice it, but he does. </p><p>“it’s pretty.” suddenly wondering if she’s started to suffer from auditory hallucinations, she turns the pilot’s seat in shock, facing the mandolorian.</p><p>“what?” she asks. but he says nothing more, sitting in the co-pilot’s chair and toggling the controls she had forgotten in her surprise.</p><p>a smile spreads onto her face.</p>
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